He’d learned that lesson back when he was eight.
He’d been out on a trip with his folks—couldn’t remember where—and they’d come to an unattended tol booth on an off-ramp from the Parkway. The tol
was twenty-five cents at the time and drivers were supposed to drop the exact change into a basket, which then funneled it down into the coin machine.
Whether by accident or someone’s design, the coin slot had become blocked, al owing the basket to fil with change.
Jack remembered his excitement when he’d seen the overflowing coins and how he’d starting rol ing down the rear window, yel ing,
—something like,
never forgotten that look.
Jack smiled up at Mr. Rosen. “So, I guess that means you’l teach me, right?”
“Keep tension on the wrench, Jack. Not too hard, but keep it steady.” After almost half an hour of coaching, with Mr. Rosen hovering over his shoulder,
Jack wondered if he’d ever learn this.
Good thing it was a weekday morning, because they tended to be pretty slow at
USED. Weekday afternoons were slightly busier, but things started
moving Friday afternoon and stayed pretty busy through the weekends. That
was when the “tourists”—real y just folks from Phil y and Trenton and
thereabouts—went out for a ride in the country.
As a result, the lesson wasn’t rushed or interrupted.
Since the curved-glass china cabinet was pretty much worthless if it couldn’t be
opened, Mr. Rosen had said it would be as good a place as any to
start.
Uh-uh. The lock seemed so smal .
He’d inserted the end of the thin little bar with the right angle at each end—cal
ed a tension wrench—into the bottom of the keyhole. Jack was supposed to keep pressure on it in the direction he wanted the lock’s cylinder to turn. Then
he’d inserted one of the slim little instruments that looked like a dentist’s probe into the opening and gently pul ed and pushed it forward and backward
inside—Mr. Rosen cal ed this “raking”—to move the pins and make them line up with the edge of the cylinder. Once they were al in line, the tension
wrench would be able to turn the cylinder and open the lock.
The tension wrench seemed to be the key—too much pressure on it and the pins
wouldn’t move; too little and they wouldn’t stay lined up.
It wasn’t hard work, but Jack could feel the sweat col ecting in his armpits. Mr. Rosen sighed and said, “We maybe should try a bigger lock. I thought this
might be better because it has fewer pins, but they’re smal and
sometimes harder to—”
“Hey!” Jack cried as the tension bar suddenly rotated.
A strange, indescribable elation surged through him as he heard the latch slide
back with a click. He grabbed the knob and pul ed open the door.
“I did it!”
Mr. Rosen clapped him on the shoulder. “Good for you, my boy. Once you get
that first success under your belt, the next wil be easier, and the one after that even easier.”
Jack stared down at the pick and tension wrench in his hands. He’d simply
unlocked a china cabinet, but he felt as if he’d opened the door to a world of infinite possibilities.
He glanced up and found Mr. Rosen staring at him.
“What?”
The old man shook his head. “I hope I haven’t created a problem.” Jack had a pretty good idea what he meant. He lowered his voice into
